The White Horse Pub
I was born in the White Horse pub in Calne in 1952, at No 1 Wood Street. My grandparents, Alec and Dorothy Poole, were landlords at the time. I loved to stay there as a very small child and my room was a cosy room in the attic with a window to the street. They had a budgie called Joey and a dog whose name escapes my memory. I also remember a birthday when I was given a doll nearly as big as me. There was a vegetable garden at the back of the pub. I used to pull up radishes and carrots and eat them before putting the tops back into the ground to hide the evidence ... which of course was pretty fruitless as the tops always wilted.
I believe this pub has now been demolished, which is a great shame because I think we shouldn't pull down old buildings to make way for new, often inferior ones.
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